


Prologue

by TreehouseW



Series: An Ever-adapting Canvas [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Cyberpunk, Female Protagonist, GURPS - Freeform, Gen, Italian Mafia, Mystery, Original Character(s), Science Fiction, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28899378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreehouseW/pseuds/TreehouseW
Summary: This is a story of a lost girl in a bustling metropolisShe's a young and ambitious person, who lives in Cyberia.No one knows where she is actually from, though.The world is a little different in the 22nd century. People made contact with various aliens and Cyberia is the only state who allows aliens to stay.Cyberia didn't only attract aliens, but also creatures who hid in the darkest corners of the earth.Discover the cities many secrets and extraordinary people.The creatures in Cyberia look forward to your arrival.
Relationships: Nikita Tolstoy & Sebastiaan De Wachter
Series: An Ever-adapting Canvas [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119443
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Prologue

# An Ever-adapting Canvas

## Prologue

Silence filled the room. Most offices had an office clock and its ticking noise would rhythmically annoy the workers, but any noise would distract the workforce, the superiors thought. Nikita was sitting behind her desk, staring at the pile of paperwork in front of her. A long sigh echoed in the big and empty underground office. Her co-workers already left some while ago. She heard some flies now and then, occasionally landing on her blue jeans. She shook her leg and looked at the blank wall beside her. “It is probably already eight o’clock,” she thought to herself, although there was no way for her to know. The only sources of light were some flickering light bulbs and her way too bright pc screen.

It wasn’t about the money. Nikita was doing all this work after office hours to lick her bosses’ ass. It wasn’t even corporate life, it was mafia life. Nikita worked at the finance department of the biggest underground group of Cyberia, called Tartufo D’oro. “Was office life always like this? How about a few centuries ago?” Nikita thought to herself while procrastinating by thinking about the awful lot of old-school movies she had seen.

Nikita was pulled out of her daydream when a sudden slam made her heart pounce. “You’re still here working on that lousy report, doll face?”

A cold breeze filled the office when the door opened.

A tall, middle-aged man entered the room. The year read 2124, but this man came straight out of a 1950’s noir movie. Not only did his style of clothing look ancient, but he literally copied some of the most famous detective costumes of that time. This man’s name was Sebastiaan De Wachter. He was a Dutch immigrant who controlled the intelligence department of Tartufo D’oro.

“Yes, Sir. I'm still working on that 'lousy' report you want to be done by tomorrow,” Nikita teasingly replied to her superior.

“I see you’re not really making any progress,” De Wachter said while looking at the immense pile of files on Nikita’s desk. He grinned and walked towards her in a swaggy, almost cinematic way.

“If you want to leave, be my guest. It’s already dark outside,” he said while casually looking around the dusty office. “I know I’m gonna hit a bar as soon as I leave this dark hellhole. I just wanted to check the office before leaving, but I guess I could leave locking this place up to you now.”

De Wachter looked into her eyes and turned around, awaiting a smart reply.

"Cheers sir. Of course, you can leave that to me. You don't have to wait for me to finish, I'll be on my way as well when I finish work." Nikita kept her calm and knew her boss was just testing her diligence.

“Have it your way little girl, just know you won’t get paid extra for overwork.” He walked away, but then stopped right in the door opening. He tilted his head a quarter to the left and paused a second before parting with the words that would spin in Nikita’s head for days. "I know this work might be dull for someone as talented as you, but if you show your worth”—he paused again, as if he wasn’t a hundred percent sure—“I might have a team who needs your assistance. The good for nothing scrubs aren't even half as talented as you."

De Wachter closed the door behind him and Nikita was alone again. The room was just as silent as before, but this time Nikita wasn’t sighing. She took a deep breath and started working through that pile of files as if her life depended on it, which wasn’t far from reality.

She finished working in an hour and tidied her desk. Filled with renewed energy, she walked to the door and looked behind her, one last time.

“See you never, dust forsaken old room,” Nikita joked while her cheeks rounded from her smile. “You know, I’m feeling lucky, let’s hit the bar tonight!”

She climbed the stairs back to the ground floor, and from that moment on Nikita would be climbing new stairs for the rest of her life.


End file.
